"Truly, Lady Bai, that shade of lilac was simply made for you. It puts the very sky to shame," whispered a young woman named Meiling, her voice a confection of sweet honey and sharper envy.
Mount Jinghu was a place sculpted from a poet's dream. This was a place were clouds kissed the blade shaped peaks and mist rolled over the sacred courtyards like a breath of a slumbering beast. The air was crisp, laced with the faint scent of plum blossoms and dew-kissed bamboo. But the Grand hall of Echoed resolve, was already shimmering by dawn.
Lavish silks draped every pillar. Gold-threaded banners bearing the Full-Bloomed Lotus Sigil fluttered gently in the breeze, and petals — real petals — were being released from the high rafters in timed waves.
In the high dais, a half circular platform made out of polished sandalwood gleamed under the sunlight. Around it sat elders, clan leaders, high ranking guests- some disguised spies, some silent gods.
In one corner of this heavenly courtyard, stood Bai Suwei, daughter of the fantastically wealthy merchant Bai Chen, draped in layers of cherry blossom-pink and silver silk, her hair a tower of polished pins and ornaments, gleaming in the light. Her robes were a masterpiece of layered silks, embroidered with pearls that shimmered with her every delicate movement. Surrounded by her small court of admirers, she was the undisputed center of attention among the new disciples.
"It's merely an adequate," Suwei replied, though her smile said otherwise. "One must show the proper respect for the esteemed Lin Clan, after all."
"Exactly!" One of her followers — a pretty girl named Meihua — nodded enthusiastically. "Even the Lotus General should learn a thing or two about elegance from you, Young Miss Suwei."
"Strength on the battlefield is one thing, but true power of a woman is in elegance. You're the true jewel of this gathering." Another male attendant chimed in, as her most anticipated approval followed.
Bai Suwei's smile widened. She had spent a fortune and a month of preparation to ensure this was the case. She was the prettiest, the richest, and the most refined. Here, on the sacred ground of Mount Jinghu, she would reign.
" Don't be like that, young master. The lotus general has her armor, but I only need silk and my zither " Bai Suwei said pointing gracefully at the zither that sat behind her, waiting for the ceremonial performance she had arranged without invitation.
" So when are you going to show us your zither skills, lady Bai?. I'm sure your skills are unmatched among all of these maidens."
Of course she would play. Who would dare say no to the only daughter of Bai Chen, one of the wealthiest merchant of the east?
Well. Until recently.
Her painted smile faltered as she overheard another whisper.
"I heard lord Lian's daughter is also going to attend today."
"What? Lord Lian Jun from the east ? I thought he had no children?"
"She just returned from the north, apparently. Never seen in public before."
" Then why care to join a sect?"
" I heard some people saying that she wants to carry her father's legacy further."
Hearing all these chit chats, Bai Suwei's eyes narrowed involuntarily.
"Tch… Must be some frostbitten mongrel dragged from the mountains," Meiling murmured behind her fan." She'll have snow in her ears and fleas in her robes."
It was until the doors opened again, and a new figure stepped inside. And the guards at the gate parted with mechanical grace.
The chatter around them did not stop, but it faltered. Bai Suwei's gaze flickered to the newcomer, her smile tightening almost imperceptibly.
The woman was beautiful—no, that wasn't the right word. She was… ethereal. Her beauty was not in ornamentation, but in form. She wore simple but exquisitely tailored dark blue robes, lined with threads of dull gold, embroidered with abstract cloud patterns instead of flashy brocade. her long hair tied back with a single black ribbon with a single silver-scaled hairpin carved in the shape of a dragon. She wore no jewelry save for the silver pommel of the sword on her back. She was a stark, elegant silhouette against the hall's bright grandeur.
"Who is that?" Meiling whispered, her flattery for Suwei momentarily forgotten.
"Lian Zhiqiu," Suwei said, her voice a little too sharp. "Daughter of the merchant Lian Jun. They say his wealth rivals my father's, but he has no taste. Clearly, it runs in the family. She's dressed for a funeral, not a welcoming ceremony."
As if drawn by their whispers, the newcomer's path brought her near their circle. Lian Zhiqiu's face was a mask of polite indifference, but it was her presence that was so unsettling. The air around her felt… heavy. It was a perfectly restrained aura, a dam holding back an ocean, and the sheer, disciplined strength of it was something your bones knew they would break if the flood was ever released. This was not just a mere merchant's daughter. It was a threat.
Taking their cue, Suwei's attendants stepped forward, blocking Zhiqiu's path.
"Ohh my…." Meiling cooed, her sweetness curdling at the edges, "you must be the daughter of Lian Jun. How brave of you to come all this way—alone….. Did no one tell you that this was a formal ceremony? One would hate for the elders to mistake you for a servant."
Lian Zhiqiu's silver eyes flickered to her, but she said nothing. She simply waited.
"Lady Zhiqiu, is it?" Bai Suwei began sweetly. "We're so glad you could join us. I must say, I expected… more colors? But I suppose your style is… ehm… northern rustic— mmmm… Very authentic."
Behind her, the minions giggled.
LiuYan simply looked at her.
One blink.
No amusement. No annoyance. Just silence.
--You don't exist--
That was the message.
" Classic—"
Suwei faltered. For the first time, she noticed it. The discipline. The way this girl's entire body moved like it had been carved from jade and honed in fire. Even the way she stood — one hand resting calmly behind her back— was that of a swordswoman who had nothing left to prove.
The silence was unnerving and precisely – uncomfortable. Just as Bai Suwei was about to make another cutting remark, a sharp strike of a ceremonial halberd cracked the marbles.
" make way for the general"
A collective gasp rippled through the hall. The crowd of disciples parted like water before a ship's prow. The disciples scrambled to their knees as a second shadow appeared across the courtyard steps.
Lin Yuehan, the Lotus General , had arrived.
She was resplendent in her battle armor of amethyst and purple steel, embossed with lotus petals that shimmered faintly with spiritual qi. Her long black hair, half tied with a golden clasp, flowed like a silk river behind her.
Her presence was absolute. Every eye was on her. Her gaze swept over the hall with a cool, regal disdain, and it paused for a moment on the small commotion near the corner.
Everyone had bowed. Even Suwei, with a tight grimace.
But Lian Zhiqiu — once the Phantom General — did not bow.
She lowered her head, respectfully. Not in submission, but like a soldier greeting another across a battlefield. She did not kneel. Not like the others.
"Interesting," Yuehan thought, as she turned away.
Meiling tried one last time.
"Lady Zhiqiu, you didn't bow deeply enough," she hissed. "That's a breach of ceremony—"
It was all the trigger LiuYan needed. She had tolerated the petty barbs, the childish posturing. But to be a spectacle in front of her target? The time for patience was over.
The mask of Han JiLan dropped. The face of Shen LiuYan looked out.
Neither she moved nor speak. She simply lifted her eyes and met Meiling's. And the world stopped. It was not a glare.
The killing intent — the signature of Shen LiuYan — pulsed through her gaze.
A glare has heat. This was the cold, absolute stillness of the void. The crushing pressure of a god's restrained fury descended upon a small porcelain jar. It was a promise of a death so swift and silent, no one would ever find the body.
Meiling's face went white. The jeer died on her lips, replaced by a choked squeak of pure, primal fear. She and the other attendant stumbled backward, tripping over their own feet to get away, their faces etched with a terror they couldn't comprehend.
The ceremony began. Matriarch Lin gave her speech. But up on the high dais, Yuehan's gaze drifted back to the scene. She had felt the pressure of LiuYan's qi, also had seen the aftermath: two terrified girls and one preternaturally calm woman in blue. Her brow furrowed in annoyance. She saw Lian Zhiqiu's goddess-like beauty, but now associated it with a lack of composure and a unwillingness to engage in petty squabbles.
'Another arrogant merchant's daughter with a temper,' Yuehan thought, her gaze dismissing her. "How tedious. She's nothing like a true warrior."
Yet for a moment, the hairs on the back of her neck had risen. "Strange"
Down below, Lian Zhiqiu stood perfectly still, her face once again a mask of polite indifference. She had made a small scene. She had been noticed.
The game had begun, exactly as planned.